


Mirable Port

by iiii



Series: Incidents in Transit [21]
Category: Firefly, Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 17:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20295499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiii/pseuds/iiii
Summary: Meeting the Fangirls.





	Mirable Port

A stout middle-aged couple were waiting at the port gates with a donkey cart.

"Jamie?" the man said, stepping forward to shake her hand. "And... Captain Reynolds?"

Mal put his hand out.

"I'm John Tradescant, and this is Archam Campbell."

Jamie introduced the Winchesters, Jayne, and Victor.

"Well," Mr Tradescant began, "We had the assembly room at the Guildhall booked for yesterday, but..."

"We were unavoidably detained," Mal cut in.

"Uh-huh," Mrs Campbell said. "We got use of one of the upper rooms. You'll must to settle that account with the stewards. Come along."

When they got the Guildhall, Jayne stayed with the cart. Mrs Campbell led the rest of the party from Serenity into the lobby, up a stair, down a winding corridor, and up another stair, Mal trying to invoke force majeure the whole way.

Mrs Campbell stopped in front of a set of double doors. "Captain. You were committing a crime. You got arrested. Such is not an act of God. Such is a foreseeable consequence."

Mal opened his mouth to argue further. She turned away and thrust open the doors.

"They're here!" Mrs Campbell caroled to the room at large. "Collect your kit, wayfarers. We're heading out."

A dozen idling people startled into motion. The room was mostly empty, with bedrolls and open baggage scattered about. There was a dais at the far end and chairs stacked along the walls.

"I've to see to my own traps," Mrs Campbell said, and left them at the door.

Jamie went after her.

"She's coming with us?" Sam asked.

"Seems like," Victor said.

“This is going to be a fun trip,” Dean muttered.

They heard Mrs Campbell squawk from across the room, and looked over in time to see Jamie miming a span of angel wings.

“Oh, yeah. Lots of fun.”

Mr Tradescant bustled up behind them. "I've sounded recall and talked to the kitchen. Lunch should be up by noon. Shall we start shifting baggage now, do you think?"

"Launch window closes at fifteen hundred," Mal said. 

"So we should start now."

The half-dozen teens who were to be passengers on Serenity helped haul their baggage to the ship, incidentally introducing themselves to the crew. The crew, running on half a night's sleep and not enough coffee, took in their names only haphazardly.

Mrs Campbell insisted that Mal cover her party's tab for the extra night at the Guildhall before she'd sign off on the bill of lading. Then she insisted Simon come along to lunch back at the Guildhall along with the original landing party.

While Serenity was being loaded, the upper room had been transformed into a lecture hall. The chairs had been set out in neat rows facing the dais. A table had been set on the dais with chairs of its own facing the audience. Platters of food had been laid out on a side table, and the gathered crowd had made serious inroads on the buffet. The crew were let to fill plates and chivvied into seats at the front table.

A woman took the lectern at the end of the table. She introduced herself as Margaret Clitherow, BNF, then named each each of the people at the table for the benefit of the recording.

("Recording? No one said anything about being on Candid Camera."  
"Let it go, Dean.")

Miss Clitherow called on Jamie. Jamie rose to bear witness to what she had seen of the road so far: finding the box, the journey to Persephone, the angel on Pelorum.

Miss Clitherow displayed a holographic projection of the Winchesters' ribs. Victor identified it from the watermark as the file he'd uploaded to the Hunternet. Simon described the process of making the scans and the equipment he'd used. A man in the fifth row got two questions in to cross-examining Simon about the scanner's maintenance history before Miss Clitherow put a stop to it, pointing out that time was limited and they hadn't even gotten to the main attraction.

The main attraction bridled at that.

Miss Clitherow asked if they had an opening statement.

Dean leaned back and crossed his arms.

Sam said, "Er. Jamie kind of covered it?"

Miss Clitherow waited.

"Um. An angel talked us into putting ourselves in a time capsule. Next thing we know, These people are pointing guns at us."

Mal glowered. Jayne lurched to his feet, and took his empty plate back to the buffet for seconds. Dean followed him.

"We got to Persephone, like Jamie said," Sam went on, "and the guy who hired them, Badger? Turned out he was actually Crowley. The demon."

Miss Clitherow said, "Our friends on Persephone tried to pay Badger a call. He's gone. His bookkeeper claimed not to know where or how long he'd be away."

Dean sat back down at the table, and raised an eyebrow at Sam. Sam shrugged back.

"You two seem to have opinions about that," Miss Clitherow said. "Please share."

Dean leaned forward, as though into a microphone. "I'm just here so I won't get fined." He set to his plate.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sounds like Crowley bolted. Obviously. Beyond that, we don't know."

Miss Clitherow looked to the panel for further comment. When none came, she turned back to the audience. "Right. Let's open the floor to questions. Line forms to my right. I'm told their launch window is closing, so they need to be on their ship by fourteen hundred. This meeting will end at quarter-to, and the floor will close ten minutes before that. No exceptions, no whining."

A quarter of the room stood up and made for the line.

"State your name for the recording, say who the question is for, and ask. There are a lot of people in line, so one question each, and if your 'question' goes more than three sentences I will have you removed. Are we clear? Good. First question."

The inquisition began in earnest. 


End file.
